


Queen Hermione's First Conquest

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bisexual Hermione Granger, Dark Hermione Granger, Dubious Consent, Dubious Ethics, Extremely Underage, F/F, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Sensuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 09:41:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17201153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The Dark Lord's young bride has taken an interest in one of the Death Eaters. What Queen Hermione wants, she gets.





	Queen Hermione's First Conquest

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags! Hermione is 12 in this, and Narcissa is her canon age; if this bothers you, don't read this fic. While nothing graphic is written in detail, there is sexual activity between an adult and a child. Wrong in real life, hopefully hot in fiction.

Narcissa Malfoy was startled into wakefulness by the burning of her Dark Mark. A quick tempus charm confirmed her initial instinct that it was oddly early for a summons, and a glance at the other side of the bed where her husband was still sleeping peacefully confirmed that he hadn’t been called. Her thoughts wandered as she hurried to dress and make herself presentable. She realized that the summons felt slightly different this time, and a flash of insight occurred to her. The Queen! 

The Dark Lord had held a lavish -- and entirely unexpected -- gala last night, at which he had revealed his recent marriage and proudly introduced his wife as the Queen of the Dark Order. Their very young Queen, Narcissa thought to herself, only managing not to feel even more awkward than she did at the thought of a child only twelve years of age already married thanks to a long, tearful, philosophical chat with Bella that had lasted until the early dawn. With a slight shake of her head to distract herself from pointless pondering, she gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror and, deeming her appearance acceptable, apparated away following the pull of her Dark Mark.

After arriving at Slytherin Manor, Narcissa had been informed by a house elf that the Queen was expected her… in her bedroom. Uncertain yet dutiful, she allowed the elf to escort her into the Dark Royals’ private wing of the house and announce her presence at the door of the Queen’s suite.

\--  
Hermione was reclining in the most lavish bed she had ever seen, let alone slept in, sipping a cup of tea and trying to wrap her mind around the recent changes in her life. In the past week alone she had married the Dark Lord, Champion of Magic, and become his consort and Queen, begun to learn intricate details of the Dark Order her husband led, and been the center of attention at a massive party where she was introduced to his - their! - Death Eaters. It was such a whirlwind that her head was practically spinning with the headiness of it all.

If it was still something of a shock to her to think that she had servants now, what she was doing this morning seemed so surreal and impossible to her that she nearly marveled at her audacity. A blush spread across her pale cheeks, and she almost wanted to chicken out. But she had her Lord and husband’s encouragement giving her the bravery she needed to embrace this new, slightly frightening, incredibly intoxicating feeling that was, in a word, power. So she simply lounged in their bed wearing nothing but a sexy, nearly sheer lace chemise, sleepily drinking tea and awaiting the arrival of the Death Eater she had summoned to serve her desires this morning. So lost was she in her musings that she barely registered one of the house elves announcing a visitor.

“My Queen,” 

A gentle, measured voice interrupted Hermione’s internal angst and she looked up to see Narcissa Malfoy standing at her door. The older witch curtsied elegantly. Hermione almost lost her nerve and started babbling nervously upon finding herself in a one on one interaction with the woman she had begun to see as the perfect example of an aristocratic and graceful Traditionalist witch. Then she felt her husband’s presence in her head through their marriage bond and his slightly cajoling encouragement gave her the confidence to act as the Queen he had made her.

“You may enter, Narcissa.” Trying not to watch too intently as her beautiful visitor glided across the room, Hermione instead attempted to focus on figuring out what in the world to say or do next. Gods, why had she thought this would be a good idea? A very distinct thought echoing from the bond answered that: because anything she wanted was hers by right, now, and her Lord knew that she had liked this fleeting little fantasy she’d had.

“Good morning, Your Majesty. How may I serve you?” Narcissa inquired with cautious politeness upon reaching her side.

 

\--  
Her new Queen was younger than her own son. Narcissa knew this, and she knew that logically it should feel at least a little bit strange. Her breath had nearly caught in her throat when she had first caught sight of the girl this morning, and she knew it hadn’t only been due to surprise at her hostess’s unorthodox attire for receiving visitors or even shock at such a young girl so brazenly wearing only lingerie sans even any underwear. She could feel a blush spreading across her cheeks. Morgana! She hadn’t lost her composure like that since her Hogwarts days and now here she was blushing like a schoolgirl over this young girl, unquestionably her superior, to whom her very magic seemed to be urging her to submit… in every way.

Although her voice had been perfectly even and composed when addressing the Queen, Narcissa had to admit to herself that she was more than a little bit apprehensive about where this situation could lead. She didn’t know exactly why she was even thinking of such taboo things, but she could at least deduce that it had to do with the fact that the beautiful young lady in front of her was her Lord’s consort. Her magic had to be responding to that, she decided, and then she finally understood certain comments her sister had made last night. Magic had always been their guide, and it was easy enough to simply feel what was unquestionably correct. But wait, did that mean Bella had already…

She had no more time for such idle thoughts, however, as the Queen’s voice broke into her musings. “You look lovely, as always, Narcissa, but you’re overdressed.”

That noticeably flustered the legendarily unflappable Malfoy matriarch. A raised eyebrow and slight smirk from the Queen snapped her out of her confusion and back into action. Unusual though it may be, this was her first private audience with her Lord’s wife and she was determined to make a good impression. Whatever her Queen commanded, she would endeavor to do to the best of her ability. Shaking fingers slowly unclasped and removed the outer robe she’d so carefully selected only a few minutes earlier, and she turned to lay it aside on the nearest chair.  
Narcissa didn’t notice her Queen’s eyes follow her movements, appreciating the view. Thus, she wasn’t necessarily expecting further direction. 

“Remove your skirt and shoes as well; everything else can remain… for now.” 

By the Blessed Lady! Was it really alright that she had actually felt a slight shiver of anticipation at the child’s tone? Narcissa could scarcely believe the situation she’d found herself in. But her magic felt amazingly content and the feelings only intensified with every command she followed, so she resolved to put aside all doubt and serve with distinction as members of the House of Black always had within their Lord’s ranks.

 

\--  
Hermione had firmly resolved to hide her embarrassment and uncertainty behind the regal demeanor that her husband was always encouraging as her right. She certainly hoped it was working. Narcissa Malfoy stood next to her in nothing but stockings, underwear, and a blouse that tastefully emphasized her cleavage. The older witch was beautiful, and quite literally on display for her. 

Gorgeous, she thought, but not quite perfect yet. A mischievous smirk gracing her face, the Queen barely whispered an incantation as she raised her wand and cast a quick spell. Narcissa made no move to avoid being hit. Formerly a sensible black, the surprised witch’s undergarments were changed into a bright red that Hermione found much more satisfactory. “Perfect,” she commented approvingly as she motioned Narcissa closer.

“You’ll begin by serving me,” the Queen commanded, her tone one of amusement, clearly enjoying answering Narcissa’s question with such a blunt double meaning. “You’ll be so pretty on your knees for me.”

As Narcissa dutifully moved into position, with requisite comments conveying how honored she was to be granted such an opportunity, and buried her head between her Queen’s thighs, Hermione concluded that she had indeed been correct in this, as in most things. The woman really was beautiful like this. 

She had very few thoughts after that, with most coherent ones being driven from mind by the pleasure of Narcissa’s performance. The Queen reached three blissful climaxes from her servant’s increasingly frantic efforts to satisfy her before she finally relaxed her thighs and allowed the disheveled woman to sit up and breathe freely. She thought Narcissa looked even more beautiful than usual with her hair mussed, lipstick smudged, and her juices covering her face.

Evidently, Lord Slytherin agreed, suddenly appearing and commenting from the doorway. “Was she good, my Queen?” He asked, with an indulgent smile directed towards his new wife, and Narcissa anxiously awaited the answer, hoping her performance had satisfied both Dark Royals.


End file.
